I am Me
by Luna Obsessed
Summary: Luna spends her eighth Christmas with her small family, until she dares to go for a walk in the rather cold village and comes across a redhaired boy...


_AN: Just a little Christmas one-shot full of Luna-goodness for you all, I hope I've captured the characters right. I hope in the future to write more of Luna's mother and work more into her character, which I didn't really do in this fic, so it doesn't show much about her personality. I apologise for any grammatical errors in this fic, it has not yet been beta-read and I wanted to get it up in time for Christmas. So speaking of Christmas…Merry Christmas! Or Happy Holidays…hope all of you have a good time this year. I would like to thank a few special people, Lily, BAGGE, Tashi and Briana for reviewing me recently or just listening when I need to blabber endlessly about my writing. It helps and you've helped, thank you._

_Tabby xxx_

**I am Me**

Snowflakes fell from the sky like raindrops, covering the lawns and roads of Ottery St. Catchpole, until not even a speck of grass could be seen. In a lopsided little house, a small girl woke to the sound of church bells and out of tune humming.

As she stretched her legs, the fluffy orange cat curled up at the end of the bed, sprang up and scampered out of the room.

The girl rose and slipped her feet into a pair of odd slippers. One was an old, purple and lime striped man's slipper and the other a soft woman's slipper, which changed colour every minute, currently orange. Both were much too big for her tiny feet, but she seemed happy enough in them. That done, the girl ran out into the landing and down the stairs, with a little tumble at the bottom. She hastily picked herself up and rushed through a wooden door, into another room. Although when empty the room may have seemed large, it was really rather small when used as both kitchen and living room. This particular family that lived there, had more clutter than most, which made the room even more cramped but nobody minded.

The source of the humming, sat at the kitchen table. "Merry Christmas, Luna darling!" he said, beaming merrily.

The woman pouring tea laid down the kettle as her daughter came running forward to hug her.

"Ready to see what Holly's brought you?" she asked, a smile spreading on her face.

Luna nodded earnestly, but her father broke in first.

"Uh uh, breakfast first!"

"Oh Daddy, do we _have_ to?"

"Of course not; I was joking silly!" Mr. Lovegood repeated jollily, his gaze wandering over to the framed picture, hanging above the mantelpiece. A drawing of the Crumple Horned Snorkack, crafted by him. Very fine piece of artwork, even if he did say so himself. The walls around the kitchen were covered in articles cut from _The Quibbler_, making the kitchen look very nice indeed, or so the Lovegood's thought.

"Come on then," he said and all three of them trouped out to the garden, holding hands.

Luna looked around expectantly, not noticing she had just lost one of her slippers, previously owned by her father. Her cat, Quibblenose, was now chewing it a few feet away.

"Come on, she'll have left them round here somewhere, you know she doesn't have time to wait around," Mrs. Lovegood said brightly.

The Lovegood family did not believe in Father Christmas. They believed in Holly, the Christmas Snorkack. Every year on the twenty-fifth of December, they awoke and went off on this expedition around their large, wild garden, hunting for presents left by Holly. And this year was no exception…

When they had first began hunting for a pile of brightly wrapped packages, Mr. Lovegood, along with his daughter had worn expressions of childish excitement. When the three family members met up again, they were all empty-handed and all looking extremely disappointed.

"Nevermind, me and Daddy have got you a present inside," Mrs. Lovegood said kindly, taking her daughter's hand, although nothing hid the concern in her face.

"Maybe next year..." her husband murmured despondently, taking one last glance into the wilderness before entering the house again.

"More toast darling?"

"No thank you, I think I'll go and read for a while," Luna answered meekly.

Mrs. Lovegood vanished from her chair by the fire and was back within a minute, clutching a vibrantly wrapped present in her arms.

"Were you apparating, Mummy?" Luna asked, wide-eyed.

"Yes dear," her mother replied, handing Luna the present. "I'm afraid we were counting on Holly, so this is all we managed to get you…"

"I understand," Luna said solemnly. "Daddy doesn't earn very many sickles."

Mr. Lovegood gazed into the fire for a moment and leant back in his armchair. "No darling, I don't earn much money at the moment, but you're happy aren't you? You like living here? You get enough food and-"

Luna jumped up onto her fathers lap, "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," both her parents replied simultaneously.

Smiling, Luna began to un-wrap her present.

"Oh thank you!" she cried as a bag reading _'The Quibbler' _fell out of the paper. Luna carefully folded the wrapping paper up and put it aside.

"Oops I forgot…" Mrs. Lovegood muttered and waved her hand at the bag. It now read '_My Daddy's the Editor of The Quibbler_'; a little different from the usual _Quibbler_ bags Mr. Lovegood sold.

"Look inside," he said.

Luna peered into the bag and came face to face with a Blibbering Humdinger toy. Beaming, she and the cuddly creature emerged from the material.

"Merry Christmas," the little girl whispered as she hugged her Humdinger tightly.

Later that day, Luna set off with her bag and toy, for a little walk in the village. Her parents had fallen asleep listening to the wizard's wireless, so she knew they wouldn't miss her.

She hadn't thought about getting changed, or even wearing a cloak over her white nightgown. Both slippers had disappeared now, so it was bare feet with which she crunched through the snow in. A fluffy orange cat began to follow his mistress, but soon retreated into his home, not liking the cold, which the outer-world brought.

Absent-mindedly chewing on a strand of dirty blonde hair, Luna's eyes followed footprints in the snow. When they stopped, she looked up and found her nose touching a wooly jumper. She took a few dainty steps backwards and raised her hear higher, so she was staring into two blue eyes. They belonged to a boy, who looked vaguely familiar.

"You have lots of brothers. And a sister," Luna stated.

"Yeah," the boy muttered, looking surprised.

"Your jumper's nice, what's that colour called?"

"Maroon. I hate it, mum always gives me one. "

"You have a cold."

"I know that, you don't need to rub it in."

"Sorry, I wasn't trying to."

"Whatever, can you stop staring at me?"

Luna lowered her eyes slightly.

"Are you a ghost?" the boy asked.

"No I'm not, have you ever met one?"

"Nah but Bill has – that's my biggest brother, he goes to school. I don't, I'm only nine."

"I'm eight."

"If you're not a ghost, then are you an angel? A little eight year-old angel?"

"No."

"Oh. What are you then? I thought only ghosts 'n angels wore nighties all the time and no normal person would be bare foot when it's snowing." The boy said matter of factly.

"I," Luna said with some importance, "am me."

"Wow…"

"And who are you?"

"I'm Ron Weasley."

"What's Ron short for?" Luna asked.

"Ronald, but I don't-"

"Nice to meet you, Ronald. Are you having a good day?"

Ron looked surprised again, "Not really. Fred and George put a nasty potion in my drink; it made me hiccup for two hours non-stop!"

"Who are Fred and George?" Luna asked inquisitively.

"Two of my brothers. They're twins. I say, are you a muggle?"

"What's a muggle?"

"You're a muggle then. I'm a wizard, that means I can do magic – well I can't yet, but when I go to Hogwarts I will," Ron said proudly.

"Are you going to Hogwarts then?" Luna asked.

"Yeah, when I'm eleven – a big boy!"

"I'm going when I'm eleven too."

"No you're not; you're a muggle!" Ron objected.

"No, I'm me," Luna said again, and she smiled.

"What's your dad's name?"

"Daddy," Luna answered promptly.

"No, I mean my dad is Mr. Weasley. What's your father's last name?"

"On most of his letters it says 'Mr. Lovegood'."

"Oh so you're a witch! Or a muggle…is your mum a witch?"

"Yes."

"You're probably a witch too. Your dad has a magazine, doesn't he?"

"Yes," Luna replied and held up her bag. "_The Quibbler_."

"Mum says _The Quibbler _is mainly nonsense. She likes _Witch Weekly_ better…my dad works at the ministry of magic," Ron said proudly.

"My mummy says the ministry is just a few silly men in smart robes, who sit in offices all day, staring at their clocks and they get payed lots for it. Does your daddy have a clock in his office?"

"Yeah, but he does work! And he's not silly...n' his robes are second-hand…he doesn't get payed loads either," Ron said defensively.

"Don't worry, my daddy doesn't earn very many sickles either," Luna said comfortingly. She took the cuddly toy out of her bag and offered it to Ron. "If you hug it, you'll feel better."

"There's nothin' wrong with me!" Ron said, looking rather scared.

"But you said you weren't having a good day and your daddy doesn't earn very much money, so you can't be too good!" Luna insisted.

Ron took the toy off her. "What is it anyway?"

"A Blibbering Humdinger."

"What?"

"Ask your mummy when you get home," Luna said knowledgably.

He squeezed the toy and handed it back. "I feel silly."

Luna laughed, "You _are_ silly!" Look." She hugged the toy and handed it back to Ron, but he did nothing.

Luna sighed, "Well if you can't hug it, you have to dance with it."

"_What_?"

Luna took one of his hands and placed it in the Humdinger's paw. She took the other hand and paw in her own palms and began to move round, pulling Ron and the toy with her, in a circle. Eventually they were so dizzy from twirling round that they collapsed in the snow.

"Fun wasn't it?" Luna asked, her cheeks flushed from 'dancing'.

Ron nodded slowly and sat up. "Who _are_ you?" he asked again.

"I'm Luna Lovegood. I am me," Luna replied and she waved her arms, creating snow angels on the perfectly white grass of Ottery St. Catchpole.

**The End**


End file.
